Happy Reunion
by webbswoman
Summary: Set after 6.06. The boys try to fix things.


Title: Happy Reunion  
Fandom: Supernatural  
Pairing: Dean/Sam  
Rating: NC-17  
Word Count: 2668  
Summary: Set just after 6.06. The boys try to fix Sam  
Spoilers: Up to and including 6.06.

Blood. Blood was everywhere; on his hands, a smear on his cheek. His top was covered in it and he could feel the hot, wet substance as it seeped through the material. He could taste it, too; the coppery tang that was all too familiar. _Hell. Torture on the rack. The motel room where Sam had just walked away. The sting as he'd bitten his tongue to stop himself from talking back to his Dad._ This time, though, the blood wasn't his own. Fighting the urge to throw up, he pulled at his top, tugged it up over his head and let it drop to the floor.

At the other end of the room, Sam was beginning to wake up, and Dean squeezed his eyes tight shut when he heard his brother grunt in pain. He'd done that, he'd punched and he'd punched and he'd punched. He didn't even regret it, not really. Hearing his little brother in pain made him feel guilty but, if he had the chance, he wouldn't change it, would do it again. What did that make him? At least Sam had an excuse for being so unfeeling.

He wiped his hands on his jeans as he crossed over the room. Sam's face was a mess but it didn't look like there'd be any lasting damage. Dean held out his hand, pulled Sam upright and held him steady until he stopped swaying.

"You done?" Sam leaned back against the wall, "Or are you going to hit me some more?"

"I'm done."

He nodded, "I guess I deserved that."

"You did."He glanced around the room, taking in the bloodshed. "Come on, Tin Man, let's get out of here."

"Dean?"

"What?"

"We're going to sort this out, right? I mean, I don't feel bad about it at the moment but, intellectually, I know that I should. I know that I should be feeling things, you know?"

He ran a hand over his mouth, grimaced when he remembered the blood. "We'll sort it out."

They had to.

* * *

They'd driven on to the next town along before finding a motel to spend the rest of the night in. The girl at the check-in counter had fussed over Sam, scowled at Dean, and then informed them icily that she only had a double left. They'd taken it.

Now, Dean sat on the floor, back pressed against the door, and watched Sam sleep. When he was asleep, Sam looked like his brother again. His cell phone began to buzz and he hurried to answer it before it woke Sam. He walked into the bathroom, closed the door behind him and kept his voice low as he said his name.

"I know who you are, Dean. What the hell's happening over there?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face, "The curse is sorted, Bobby. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Nothing for – you have got to be joking. Are you stupid, boy? You've been phoning me for days talking about Sam and now you're telling me-"

"Sam's fine. I've sorted it. Look, I've got to go." He hung up, tried not to think about the way Bobby would be cussing at the other end of the line. Now wasn't the time to tell him what was going on; Sam was – when Sam got his feelings back he'd be embarrassed that people knew. Best to keep it between the two of them if they could.

He rested his head back against the bathroom door. He'd just take a minute to think, to sort his head out, and then he'd go and wake Sam. They needed to deal with this, try and figure out what was going on. Now that Sam had admitted what was happening, they could ask Cas again. Maybe they could drive back to see Lisa while they tried to work it out; he needed to explain things to her.

Back in the bedroom, Dean let Sam sleep for a few more minutes before nudging him awake. He watched as Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes, silently handed him a cloth so that he could wipe the dried blood away.

"You okay? Not concussed?"

Sam shook his head, "Don't think so. What do we do now?"

"We talk to Cas."

"Right, okay."

Dean closed his eyes; Sam should have been protesting, should have been saying he didn't want people – an angel – to know. He shook his head at himself; that was the whole problem.

"Alright. Erm, Cas? We need your help down here. It's Sam-related. Erm, again."

"What's happened now?"

He span around, startled, and glared at Castiel, "Why do you always have to appear behind me? Actually, never mind; don't think I want to know that. We know what's wrong with Sam. He's lost his feelings."

"His feelings?"

"Yeah."

Castiel frowned, "That…is not good."

"Not good?" Sam pushed himself up off the bed. "What does it mean?"

"It means you don't have a soul."

"What?"

"That was kind of blunt, Cas." Dean began to pace the room, "Hang on, he doesn't have a soul?"

"That's correct. I think I know where it is, though. Hang on."

Dean cursed as the angel vanished and then reappeared seconds later.

"Just as I thought."

"You going to let us join the party?"

Castiel moved in front of Sam, "When you were pulled up from the cage, your soul was left behind."

A bubble of laugher ripped up through Dean's throat, "How is that even possible? What, someone just _forgot_ his soul?"

"No. It was left behind on purpose. Whoever pulled him out wanted a hunter, not a human."

Sam nodded, "That makes sense. I mean, I'm not even feeling worried or upset or anything now – that's got to be a perfect hunter."

Sam was right. However much he might not like it, his brother was right. "Okay, so what can we do about it, Cas?"

"I can get it back for you. It…may take a while, a few days. It's going to be harder than pulling you out of Hell. Stay here, it'll be easier – quicker - for me to find you." Castiel disappeared again.

"Great. Just great. I mean, if he even gets back here in one piece, who's to say he can bring your soul him."

Sam shrugged, "At least he's trying. Stop pacing, Dean. Just take it easy."

He glared at him, "That's easy for you to say." He stalked back into the bathroom, muttering about heartless freaks under his breath.

* * *

Sam typed a few words on his laptop, clicked his mouse a few times and settled back in his chair to read the page about souls. After a few minutes reading, he realized that Dean was watching him. He continued reading; he wanted to try and figure out how Castiel was going to reconnect him with his soul.

He could feel Dean's eyes boring into the back of his head but he didn't care. Usually, he'd be irritated by it but, over the past few days, there had been none of their usual bickering. Now that Dean knew the truth, he didn't need to pretend anymore.

"Dean? How about you go grab us something to eat?"

"I'm good for now."

That wasn't a surprise; Dean had refused to leave him on his own ever since Castiel had gone in search of the soul.

He scrolled down the page, just scanning the information, now. It didn't seem as though this page was going to be much help. He twisted around as Dean cursed and his eyes widened slightly when he saw Castiel. He cleared his throat. "Any news?"

The angel nodded, "I have it. Stand up."

"Hang on," Dean stepped forward, "There's no danger here, right? I mean, it's not going to ki – hurt him"

"It's going to hurt. But, no, it won't kill him. You should leave the room, though. It might get a bit bright."

Sam sighed when Dean hesitated, "It's fine, Dean. Just wait outside or something."

"You're not worried at all?"

He gave his older brother a pointed look.

"Right, right yeah. Cas, just …you know."

Dean left the room and he turned back to face Castiel, swallowed and nodded. "I'm ready."

* * *

Dean winced at the sounds of pain coming from the motel room, made to walk inside and then stopped. Again. It had been half an hour, surely it was nearly over. Besides, he didn't want to distract Castiel and make him mess something up.

He smiled awkwardly at a man who had just emerged from the room next door, raised his eyebrows in a 'What-can-you-do?' kind of way when Sam screamed again. The man just looked down nervously as he hurried away.

A sudden flash of light forced him to squeeze his eyes tight shut and he grimaced at the sure fire way to draw attention to what was going on. Two minutes later, he heard the door click open and he span around as Castiel walked out.

"It's done."

"And?"

"He's inside. Waiting for you."

He nodded, "And he's okay? He's feeling things again?"

"Yes. It seems so. Actually, I think he's seeing things a lot clearer."

"What do – damn." He shook his head as Castiel vanished again, "_Angels_."

He stared at the door for a moment, preparing himself for going inside and was about to reach out for the handle when it swung open. Sam stood in the threshold, his forehead glistening with sweat. He swayed slightly and reached out, gripped the frame to steady himself.

"Hey, Dean."

He sounded like Sam, like _his_ Sam, but he still felt the need to reach out and grasp his brother's shoulder, just to be sure. "Sammy?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Yeah, Dean. It's me."

"Oh, God." It was Sam. Finally.

"Come here." Sam reached forwards, pulled Dean into a hug and held on tight as he felt his older brother begin to shake, "It's okay. I'm here now – all of me. I'm here." He figured that the fact that he wanted to comfort, wanted to make Dean feel better, was as good a reason as any for the tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

The sun was beating down on them, turning Dean's cheeks pink when Dean finally let Sam pull him back inside. He'd needed to be sure that it was Sam, that the body in front of him wasn't going to reject the soul or something. He closed the door behind him and watched as Sam walked across the room. This was _Sam_, not the strange half-Sam that he'd been with over the last few months, but the Sam that he grew up with.

"It's good to have you back, Sammy."

Sam turned, grinning widely at him, "Yeah. It is. I've missed me. Or, at least, now that I can feel again, I- yeah, that's too complicated to work out."

He laughed, threw his head back and all out guffawed, "It's been too damn long, Sam. Next time, just tell me. I mean, if you'd told me, Cas would have just sorted it out at the start and we wouldn't have played this whole stupid game of lies."

Sam's face grew serious, "You really want me to tell you things? Even things that you won't like?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know I don't like talking but, Sam, some things, you've got to tell me. I mean, that's always been our problem, right? Not telling each other things."

"So, I have to tell you everything?"

"Right." He took a step closer, and then more, until he was standing directly in front of Dean. "In that case, I should just-" He cut himself off by covering Dean's mouth with his own. After a moment's resistance, Dean joined in, scraping his teeth over Sam's bottom lip. Sam moaned, pushed Dean up against the wall, his hand moving up under his shirt to press against warm, soft skin. He pulled away, took a breath in, and then leaned back to down to press his lips against the corner of Dean's mouth.

He stayed there, mouth pressed against Dean's as he spoke, "I, erm, told you the truth."

"Yeah," he shifted so that his forehead was resting on Sam's shoulder, "Yeah, you did. Fuck."

"You okay?"

"This – are you – you're not just messing with me, right?"

"Hell no. Dean, I wouldn't do that."

He nodded against Sam's shoulder, "You really want this."

"Yeah, I do. Do you?"

Dean lifted his head, rested it back against the wall. "God, Sam. I think I do. But it's-"

"Don't think about it. Just, does this feel right?"

It did. It felt so right. "Yeah, yeah. It does. But, fuck, Sam."

"Dean. Dean, look at me." Sam waited until he did before continuing, "I get that it's weird. We're brothers, I know. But think about it, after everything we've been through, everything that's happened. This, this – we deserve it. After everything-"

He surged forwards, grabbing Sam's shirt as he pressed their lips together. "Okay," he gasped, his mouth still on Sam's, "Okay. Let's do this."

They moved towards the bed as one, and then stopped. They looked at each other, back at the bed and then Dean lunged. He grabbed a hold of Sam's shirt, trying to get enough leverage to push him down onto the bed but Sam reached out and ran a hand down his side, making him loosen his grip. Sam took advantage, and slipped his hand up under Dean's shirt, pushing him down onto the bed. Dean twisted as he went down, pulled Sam down with him and moved on top of him, smirking. Sam moved his hand higher, pulled softly on a nipple and rolled over as Dean let go of him, pinning his older brother to the bed. He took hold of Dean's hands, tangling their fingers together.

"I win." He smiled against Dean's collarbone, kissed the spot where it met his neck, grinned again when Dean moaned.

"I guess you do. You going to actually do anything now?"

"Hmm, maybe." He laughed at the frustrated look on Dean's face and then got to work, pulling Dean's top gently up over his head. Dean arched his back, cussing softly, when Sam brushed a hand over his nipple.

"Fucker."

"Shh, there's no rush, here." He leaned down, sucked at the spot on Dean's collarbone.

"Sam, come on, this is-"

Dean stopped talking as Sam began to undo his jeans. He lifted himself up off the bed, making it easier for Sam to tug his jeans off. Sam stripped off quickly, watching wide-eyed as Dean stroked his cock almost lazily. He climbed back onto the bed, covering Dean's hand with his own and locked eyes with Dean as they moved their hands together.

"Sam."

Sam leaned down, kept moving his hand as he scraped his teeth over one of Dean's nipples.

"Sam."

He looked up at Dean, "What?"

"I'm going to – I can't hold it much longer."

"Then don't." He pushed his mouth against Dean's and jerked his hips as Dean climaxed, "Fuck, Dean. So hot."

He was so hard now, so ready, and he gasped as Dean rolled them over again. Dean smirked and moved down the bed, leaned down and took Sam's cock in his mouth. That was all it took. With a gasp, he came, forcing himself to keep his eyes open as he watched Dean swallow. Fuck, he was swallowing it.

When he was done, Dean rolled over onto his side, ran a tongue over his lips, "Not bad."

"Not – fuck, Dean. That was-"

"Yeah, I know."

"Come here." He reached out, pulled Dean over until he was almost lying on top of him. Dean went with it, slinging his arm around Sam and resting his head on his chest.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going to sleep now, right?"

He laughed, "Sure thing, old man." He pressed his lips against Dean's hair and forced himself to stay awake until he heard Dean's breathing steady out as he slept.


End file.
